


Fuck Your Charity

by Cock_Zero



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M, homeless!frank, mild prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-04 08:43:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/708789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cock_Zero/pseuds/Cock_Zero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard glanced into the alley, freezing when he saw a pair of legs in tattered jeans.</p>
<p>There was a kid lying on the dirty cement, one arm bent uncomfortably under his stomach, the other just over his head. He appeared to be asleep, or maybe he was unconscious?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fuck Your Charity

Frank swallowed and grimaced, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. The man, who didn’t tell Frank his name, buttoned his jeans back up, stepping away when Frank stood. “Ten bucks,” Frank said, holding out his hand.

The man sneered, “Yeah, right. Like I’d pay a kid.” He turned and Frank grabbed his forearm.

“I said, ten bucks, asshole!” he growled, eyes hard.

The guy wretched his arm from Frank’s grip easily, glaring back. “And I said, fuck you,” he said, turning away again.

“You can’t ju-oh!” Frank gasped, coughing when the man punched him. He felt a sharp pain digging into his side, deeper than the punch should have gone. When the guy took a step back, Frank caught a glimpse of red and silver.

He grabbed his stomach, hunching forward and whining as the guy darted out of the alley. He groaned, knees colliding with the cement. Pulling his hand away, he saw red, a lot of red. 

“Fuck,” he whimpered, left hand scraping against the filthy ground as he gripped the wound tighter. His vision began to swim, fading in and out. Frank felt his cheek come in contact with the ground, hand pinned underneath his stomach.

He watched an older woman and her dog passed by the alley, ignoring him as he blacked out.

~

Gerard frowned, looking at the time on his phone. It couldn’t have been after four already. Could it? He stopped at the mouth of an alley, sighing as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. 

He glanced into the alley, freezing when he saw a pair of legs in tattered jeans.

There was a kid lying on the dirty cement, one arm bent uncomfortably under his stomach, the other just over his head. He appeared to be asleep, or maybe he was unconscious? 

Gerard cautiously walked over, eyes fixed on the small boy. He couldn’t have been older than thirteen, fourteen tops, judging by his small frame. He crouched down, shaking the boy’s shoulders gently. “Hey, wake up. You shouldn’t be out here alone,” he said, frowning when he didn’t respond.

He rolled the kid over, cradling his back as he turned him. Gerard gasped, letting him go for a second before catching his hoodie by the sleeve.

The amount of red on the kid’s right hand alarmed him.

That was a lot of blood.

“Shit! Hey kid!” he shouted. “Wake up! C’mon!” Gerard placed his fingers over the kid’s neck, feeling a pulse. It was weak, but still there. He grabbed a handkerchief from his jacket, balling it up and placing it where he hoped the wound was. “Damn,” he cursed. He yanked his phone out of his front pocket, quickly dialing 9-1-1 and pressing it between his ear and shoulder. His hands kept pressure on the kid’s stomach as he waited for the operator to answer.

_”9-1-1, what is your emergency?”_ the man asked, voice calm and steady.

“Yeah, uh, there’s been an accident? Some kid is bleeding in the alley, um. Pacific Street between Walnut Street and New York Avenue,” he hurried out, voice shaking. Gerard could hear him typing as he patted the kid’s face, trying to wake him.

_”Is the victim conscious?”_ the operator asked.

“No, he won’t wake up,” Gerard said, looking at the kid’s face. It was thin and dirty. “Hi-his heart’s still beating and I have pressure on the wound.”

_”Do you know what kind of injury?”_

Gerard shook his head, forgetting the man couldn’t see him. “Um, n-no. Just, it’s bleeding a lot. How long for an ambulance?”

He heard the man typing again before he spoke, _”Only a few moments, sir. Just remain calm and keep pressure on the wound.”_

Gerard nodded again, placing his fingers back on the kid’s neck.

He could hear the sirens well before the ambulance came into view. It stopped just to the side of the alley, two EMTs hurrying over with a stretcher. Gerard moved to the side, putting his phone away and still holding the cloth as they crouched down.

“You found him?” one of the two women asked, taking hold of the cloth as the other checked the kid’s eyes with a small light.

Gerard nodded, watching as she lifted the kid’s hoodie, his stomach slick and bright with blood. Gerard could count his ribs, he was so thin.

“Any idea how long he’s been out for?” she asked as the two placed him on the bed, strapping him down.

“I-I don’t know. I only just found him like this,” Gerard said, following them.

The other woman stopped him when he got to the ambulance. “Are you family?” she asked, hand on Gerard’s chest.

“N-no,” he said. “But I want to make sure he’s okay. Please?” His hands fidget, one flying to his mouth as he chewed on the skin around his thumb.

The medic looked back to the first woman, who nodded. “Okay, get in,” she said, helping Gerard up and climbing in behind him.

~

The beeping was constant and almost comforting to Gerard. He knew it meant the kid was alright. He was going to live.

The doctor had said the stab wound was deep, cutting into his intestines and required surgery. He said if Gerard hadn’t of found him when he did, the kid would have bled out. He also said the kid was severely malnourished and underweight.

He had no identification on his person and Gerard told the doctor he would be paying for the kid’s bill.

“Mr. Way, are you sure you want to do that?” he asked, eyebrows raised high. “You don’t even know this kid.”

Gerard merely nodded, leaning forward in his chair and grasping the kid’s hand. He was much warmer than he had been in the alley and Gerard smiled. He did everything he could to ignore the needle in the back of his hand, keeping his eyes on the kids face so he wouldn’t get nauseous.

The doctor sighed and left the room, closing the door softly.

“Hey kid. You’re gonna be okay,” he whispered into the silent room, getting the steady beeping of his heart monitor in response.

The shrill ringtone of his phone made Gerard jump and he fumbled for it, nearly dropping it before answering. “Hel-“

_”Gerard?! Where are you? We were supposed to have dinner with mom and dad tonight and you’re not here,”_ Mikey growled.

Gerard cringed, rubbing his eyes. “Shit, I completely forgot. I’m at the hospital.”

_”Hospital?! What’s wrong?! Did something happen?!”_ Mikey asked, panic making his voice rise. _”Are you okay?!_

“Yes, I’m fine,” Gerard said, grabbing the kid’s hand again. “I was-there was a kid in an alley who was stabbed and I’m at the hospital with him right now.” He heard Mikey sigh in relief and smiled. “I’m gonna stay with him until he wakes up so… so could you tell mom and dad ‘sorry I couldn’t make it tonight’?”

_”What do you mean, ‘you’re staying with him’?”_ Mikey asked and Gerard could hear his voice go from content to hard. _”You have no obligation to stay with someone, unless-“_

“No,” Gerard cut him off, letting go of the kid’s hand and standing. “It’s not like that. I just want to make sure he’s okay. Besides, he’s like thirteen or something,” he explained. He heard Mikey scoff and frowned. “Look, when you’re done at dinner, could you bring me some clothes and the book from my night stand? Oh, and my pillow? I’m at Saint Michael’s Medical room 203.”

Mikey sighed and Gerard knew he was tilting his head back. _”Yeah, sure. I’ll be down later,”_ he said.

“Thanks, see you soon,” Gerard smiled. They said their goodbyes and he locked his phone, slipping it back into his pocket. He sat back in the chair, watching the kid sleep and thinking about what this kid was like and why he was in that alley.

~

A nurse came in to check the kid’s vital signs, writing them down on the slip of paper on her plastic clipboard. She gave Gerard a soft smile before she left, letting him know the cafeteria was open until 7:30.

“Thank you, I’m fine though,” he said and she left the room.

Gerard moved over to the sofa along the back wall, pulling his knees to his chest and biting his nails down. 

“Should have told Mikey to bring me some leftovers,” he chuckled to the sleeping boy.

The steady beeping answered him and he sighed, wrapping his arms around his legs and resting his forehead on his knees.

A sharp rapping on the door startled him and his feet slid off the couch. “C-come in?” he called out, pushing himself up. He saw a familiar face when the door opened and he grinned. “Mikey, haven’t seen you in weeks,” he said, walking over and hugging his brother who patted his back awkwardly.

“Yeah, yeah,” he smiled, keeping the small container in his hand level. “Brought you some of dad’s cooking.” He held the Tupperware up to Gerard’s face, shaking it slightly. “And you clothes and shit,” he said, handing over the bag.

“Thanks, man.” Gerard took the bag, dropping it on the couch and sitting next to it. He shoved it over and moved so Mikey could sit next to him, handing over his food.

“So,” Mikey started, staring at the kid on the bed, “I guess that’s the kid you saved?”

Gerard nodded, twirling the spaghetti around his fork. He stuffed it into his mouth, frowning when he realized how cold it was. “Mmm, yeah,” he swallowed. “I saw him in an alley, thought he was sleeping or something. But he wouldn’t wake up and then I saw he was bleeding, so I called for an ambulance and here we are.”

Mikey nodded, biting his cheek and tapping his fingers against his thigh as Gerard ate. “You’re paying for his bills, aren’t you?” he blurted out, not looking away from the boy.

“Yeah, so what?” Gerard frowned. “It’s my money and it’s only incase his family can’t pay.”

“You’re an idiot,” Mikey sighed, standing abruptly and striding over to the door. Gerard started to argue but he was cut off. “Don’t. Just call me when you’re done here, I guess.”

And, just like that, Mikey left the room, the door echoing off the walls as Gerard sat on the couch. Gerard puffed out his cheeks, glaring at the door. “I’m not an idiot,” he mumbled, turning away and finishing his dinner.

~

“Mikey, you forgot to pack my shaver,” Gerard whined down the phone.

_”You didn’t say anything about your shaver,”_ Mikey retorted. _“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go to class.”_

“Mikey no-fuck,” Gerard groaned, the dial tone loud in his ear. He sighed, locking his phone and slipping it into his pocket.

The boy was still asleep, having been that way for two days. He never even moved once, just lay on his back, arms by his side, breathing softly. The doctor had taken him off oxygen earlier that day, saying his breathing was strong enough and he should be waking soon.

Gerard was anticipating the moment, which was why he needed his shaver. He always thought he looked stupid with stubble, never being able to grow it right or whatever people who can pull it off do. He sighed again, looking into the bathroom mirror and rubbing at his jaw. The short hairs scratched at his fingertips and he frowned. Mikey was back at school and couldn’t come down and he wouldn’t call his parents for something so trivial.

He sat in the chair next to the bed, grasping the kid’s hand like always. The kid didn’t respond. His hand remained limp but Gerard kept ahold of it.

Gerard didn’t even know what to call him. He felt bad for calling him ‘kid’ all the time since he had to be a teenager, but he didn’t know what else to call him.

It was fairly late when Gerard finally let go of his hand. He shuffled over to the light switch, flipping the main overhead light off and turned, trudging over to the sofa. He curled up, pillow folded under his head, and watched the kid in the dim light until he couldn’t force his eyes to remain open.

~

Frank cracked his eyes open, his body felt numb and the room was dimly lit. He closed his eyes again and twitched his fingers, scratching at the cover under his hands. He curled his toes, making sure he could move in case he needed to run.

Opening his eyes again, he blinked blearily up at the ceiling.

Ceiling? He was inside? But where?

He rolled his head slowly to the right, following the pockmarked ceiling tiles towards the wall. There was a door, dark, solid and windowless, and a chair set next to it. 

Frank frowned. That told him nothing.

He turned his head farther, spotting a bed side table. The top was clear, not even an alarm clock was on it.

Rolling his head to the other side, he saw some machines. His brain registered a steady beeping, in sync with one of them.

He started to panic. _Hospital! Fuck!_ The beeping became erratic and he closed his eyes, resting his head back on the pillow.

_Calm thoughts, Frank. Just keep calm._ Frank exhaled through his nose, breathing slowly for a few minutes before he looked around the room again.

He stared at the machines again, watching his heart rate. The sky was lit by street lights outside the window. He could see the faint orange sneaking through the blinds. Under the window was a couch with… a person sleeping?

Frank watched the guy, he assumed it was a guy at least. The stubble mostly gave it away but his face was round, lips small and almost girly. His hair was super short and almost white and his neck was bent in what Frank could describe as the most uncomfortable position in human existence. 

The guy sniffled in his sleep, curling up into a tighter ball, and Frank exhaled again. He needed to get out of this hospital as quickly as possible. There was no way he could ever pay for his bill. Hell, he didn’t even know how long he’d been out. All he remembered was being stabbed by that John who refused to pay.

_Asshole,_ Frank growled, clenching the covers in his fists. That fucking knife cost more than ten dollars and he fucking knew it. He sighed deeply, letting the breath out slowly as he slid his hand over his stomach.

It twinged and he groaned, feeling a slight bump under the covers. Fucking stitches. Even more money he didn’t have.

He tried to push himself up on his elbows, whining and falling back when pain shot up his side. A pair of hands cupped his face and he squinted up at their owner.

It was the guy from the couch.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he said. “You’re safe. Y-you’re at the hospital.”

“No shit,” Frank growled, shoving him away. He looked hurt, but shook it off quickly, reaching for something on the side of Frank’s bed. “What are you doing?” Frank asked, easing himself up again.

“Calling for a doctor,” the guy said as the top of bed started to rise up. “And helping you sit up. By the way, I’m Gerard Way.”

“I don’t care,” Frank sneered, lying back and crossing his arms. He turned his face away, watching the door.

Gerard frowned. Surely this boy should be at least a little thankful that Gerard had saved his life. Maybe… maybe he had stabbed himself? Threw away the knife to make it look like a crime? No, he’s barely a teenager. He wouldn’t do something like that.

The doctor walked in a few seconds later, smile on his face as he switched on the light. Both Frank and Gerard winced at the harsh light. “So, it looks like someone finally woke up,” he said. He pulled a pen light from his coat pocket and tilted Frank’s head up, shining it in his eyes. “I guess the first thing I should ask is you name.”

“Frank,” Frank responded, giving him a hard glare. “When can I get out of here?”

“In a day or two,” the doctor answered, unfazed by Frank’s stare. “I’ll need you to fill out a few forms, if you can, then we’ll get you home safe and sound.”

“Awesome,” Frank said flatly. He took the clipboard the doctor handed him and uncapped the pen with his teeth, scratching in a few details.

Gerard glanced down, trying to read what he had written but the board was angled away from him. Frank gave the doctor the clipboard quickly, capping the pen and handing it over too.

The doctor scanned over the form, frowning as his eyes went lower. “You seem to have missed a few lines. You didn’t fill in your address or guardian’s phone number.”

“’Cause I don’t have one and ‘cause I don’t have them,” Frank stated, hunching his shoulders and holding his arms tight to his small frame.

“Y-you don’t?” Gerard gasped.

“No and don’t you fucking ask why,” Frank snapped.

Gerard bit his lip and nodded. He wanted to respect the boy’s, Frank’s, privacy but he was still curious. Maybe his parents died in an accident and he has no one else. Maybe he ran away from home.

“Mr. Way?” the doctor asked. Gerard looked up, seeing his annoyed face and he stiffened. “Would you either please turn around or leave the room for a moment? I need to remove Frank’s catheter,” he said and Gerard jumped.

“Oh, s-sorry!” He turned instantly, walking to the far corner and biting his thumb. He heard Frank mumble ‘douche’ under his breath and his shoulders fell.

Frank glared at Gerard’s back. Who did this asshole think he was anyway? He yelped when the tube was pulled free, sighing when his gown and cover were back over his body. The doctor was saying something about his IV, but Frank wasn’t listening. He was watching Gerard, noting how he shivered when the doctor talked about the needle.

_Fuckin’ pansy is scared of needles,_ he smirked, shaking his head. _Pathetic._

“Mr. Way?” the doctor called and Gerard hummed, turning his head just enough to see the man. “May I have a word with you outside?”

Gerard looked over at Frank, who was pointedly ignoring him, and nodded. He followed the doctor out of the room, standing to the side of the hall as the older man shut the door.

“I’m not sure, but I believe Frank is homeless for a reason other than lack of parents,” he started and Gerard’s brow creased. “I think he may have been kicked out of his home for some reason, judging by his hostility towards the subject. As I have already told you, he is severely malnourished and underweight so he may have been living on the streets for weeks, maybe even a month or two.”

Gerard nodded, biting his nails again as he looked at the closed door. “Poor kid,” he said softly.

The doctor shook his head and sighed. He looked down at his clipboard, reading Frank’s information again. “He seemed to put down that he’s seventeen, eighteen in… two weeks, but with his frame being so small, I can’t confirm this.” He paused, tapping his index finger on the paper. “I can do a check for his birth records to see. Um, will you still be paying for his bills?”

“Hmm? Oh yes. It’s the least I can do.”

The doctor smiled and placed his hand on Gerard’s shoulder. “I’ll get back to you when I know something.” He turned and walked down the hall, turning the corner and vanishing.

Gerard bit his lip again, opening the door slowly and peering in. Frank and sitting on the edge of the bed, pain evident in his face as he tried to stand. “What are you doing?” Gerard yelped, rushing over and grabbing his arm.

“Going to the bathroom, what does it look like?” Frank snapped. He used Gerard for support as he got to his feet, cringing and keeping the pressure off his left side. “I gotta take a piss and now that the fucking catheter is out, I have to actually stand up to do it.”

“But-you’re still injured,” Gerard argued, keeping the smaller boy steady.

Frank scoffed, “Tell that to my bladder.” He shuffled over to the open door, Gerard flipping the light on as the passed by it. “Like hell you’re staying in here while I piss,” he barked.

Gerard flinched, letting go of Frank’s arm as the other grabbed the metal rod on the wall. He apologized, backing out of the room and shutting the door softly. He stood a few feet away, waiting for Frank to come out. He started to think about Frank’s voice. It was deep, much deeper than a thirteen or fourteen year old’s would be. Maybe he was seventeen, like he wrote down on the form. But he was so small. Gerard was no giant, but Frank couldn’t have been more than five foot three, five foot four tops.

Gerard didn’t even want to think about how much he weighed, knowing the number would be way too low.

The toilet flushed and the door opened and Gerard rushed forward to help Frank. “Frank,” he said, catching him under the arm and walking him to his bed, “I’m gonna pay for your hospital bills.”

Frank stopped, body tense as he turned to glare at Gerard. “You’re what?” he demanded.

“I’m-I’m gonna pay for your bills?” Gerard said, confused. He didn’t know why Frank was angry. He was trying to help.

“No,” Frank whispered, yanking his arm from Gerard’s grasp. “No you fucking will not!” he shouted. “I don’t need your fucking charity!” 

Gerard winced like Frank had slapped him. “I-it’s not charity,” he said, holding his hands up in front of his chest. “I’m just trying to help. You don’t have any money but I do and I can help you.”

“I don’t want your fucking help!” Frank shouted again. “I never fucking asked you to save me! Now get the fuck out of my room!” He grabbed Gerard, shoving him backwards towards the door.

“But-my stuff is still here,” Gerard said, trying to reason with him.

“Then take your fucking shit and get the fuck out of here!” Frank yelled. He turned, hobbling back over to the bed and sat on the edge. “Well?” he snapped and Gerard jumped. 

He hurried over to the couch, stuffing his few items into his bag and closing it. 

Frank raised his eyebrows, eyes fierce and fixed on Gerard. He watched as the other shuffled over to the door, hurt on his face but Frank only glared back. “Out! And don’t fucking come back!” he said, pointing to the door.

Gerard opened it and stepped out, turning once more to try and talk sense into Frank.

“And don’t even fucking think of paying for my fucking bill,” Frank growled, cutting Gerard off.

He bit his tongue, nodded as he shut the door behind him, bag under his arm. “Shit,” Gerard mumbled. _How did I fuck this up so bad?_ He huffed out a breath, walking down the hall. The nurse’s desk came into view and he stopped for a moment. _I know he doesn’t have any money and there’s no way he could pay for these bills, so, the only decent thing to do is pay them myself._

Gerard nodded to himself and walked to the desk.

“Oh, hello Mr. Way,” the young man, Steven his name tag read, smiled. “How can I help you?”

“The patient in room 203,” he started and Steven brought something up on his computer.

“Frank Iero, Junior.”

“Yes, Frank,” Gerard smiled, licking his lips. “I’ll be paying for his medical bills, so I’ll need to give you my address?”

Steven nodded, typing something. “Okay, go ahead.”

Gerard licked his lips again, giving the nurse his address. He repeated it back to Gerard, who nodded. “And-and don’t tell Frank?” Steven raised his eyebrows at the request but agreed. “Thank you. Also, would you call me when he’s being released so I can pick him up?”

“Of course,” Steven smiled, entering Gerard’s number on the computer. “Have a good evening, sir.”

“You too,” Gerard said, leaving the desk.

He took the elevator down, exiting through the lobby and pulling out his phone. He called for a taxi, lighting up a cigarette while he waited for it to arrive.

~

“What do you mean, ‘he checked himself out’?” Gerard glowered at the female nurse behind the desk.

“I mean,” she started, putting away a folder, “he checked himself out. He had no immediate family and Dr. O’Neill said he was well enough to leave.”

“But-“ Gerard gaped, hands balled into fists on the desk. “But, Dr. O’Neill was supposed to call me when he was released, so-so I could pick him up.” 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Way,” she said, exasperated, “but he checked himself out after Dr. O’Neill left for the evening.” She turned away, handing over a file to another doctor and Gerard frowned.

_Why would he do that? Why would he check himself out? And where would he even go?_ he thought, leaving the desk and exiting the hospital. He stopped when he came to a sudden realization. Frank wasn’t just in that alley for no reason. He lives there. _Fuck._

He hurried to his car, unlocking the door and slipping in. He buckled his seatbelt, started the engine and drove towards Pacific Street and, hopefully, Frank.

Parking his car along the sidewalk, he climbed out, looking around for Frank. He saw him leaning against the brick wall, hands shoved in the pocket of his thin hoodie and face hard.

He glared at Gerard, body tensing. Frank wanted nothing to do with this pompous asshole. That’s why he left the hospital after the doctor. He was fine. He didn’t need anyone’s charity, especially not some rich douche who probably only wanted public attention for being a ‘good Samaritan’ or some shit like that. He growled, pushing himself off the wall when Gerard ran over.

“Frank, you left the hospital. I-I was going to give you a ride home,” he said, hands reaching for Frank but stopping and falling to his side.

“Really?” Frank said, his voice full of fake excitement and bringing his shoulders up. “You were gonna give me a ride home?”

“Y-yes,” Gerard replied, confused. Frank didn’t sound sincere to him.

“Well, there’s just one big flaw with your plan, Gee-rard,” he said, drawing out Gerard’s name and making the older wince. “I don’t have a home!”

“Bu-“

“No, you don’t seem to listen!” Frank snapped, cutting Gerard off. “I. Do. Not. Have. A. Home.” He enunciated the words slowly, leaning forward and poking Gerard in the chest.

Gerard flinched with every jab. His hands started to sweat and his face flushed. “Y-you could live with me?”

“Ha!” Frank spat. “Yeah fucking right. No thank you. I told you, I don’t want your fucking charity.”

“I-it’s not charity!” Gerard pleaded. “I just want to help you.”

“That’s what a charity is, ya fucking dipshit!” Frank growled. “Do you even know why I’m living on the fucking streets? You probably think I have no family, don’t you? Don’t you?!” he shouted and Gerard nodded, rubbing his arm. “Well, guess what, asshat. I do have a family and they fucking kicked me out when I was thirteen. Fucking thirteen!”

Gerard gasped, gripping his arm so he wouldn’t reach out for Frank.

“My fucking grandparents, who I fucking adored, kicked my fucking ass out. And do you want to know why?” he asked, not waiting for Gerard to respond. “Because they found out I was gay!”

Gerard felt his heart jump into his throat. He swallowed, watching Frank seethe. “W-why would that matter?” he asked cautiously. 

“Because they’re the fucking ‘holyier than thou, good little Christians’ and they didn’t want a fucking homo to ruin their good image in the neighborhood!” Frank snarled, turning away. “So they fucking threw me on to the street and I’ve been doing just fine for the last five years.” He huffed out a breath, arms tight across his chest. “So do me a favor and fuck off.” 

And he stormed away. Just like that. Gerard watched this hurt and alone young man walk down the street and he did nothing to stop him.

He just stood there, heartbroken. 

Frank had been alone for five years. How did a thirteen year old even survive on the streets of Newark? How did he still survive? Gerard knew he was barely eating. His weight told him that. He knew Frank didn’t have a job so how was he getting food. Maybe he was stealing? Maybe he-

Gerard didn’t know. Frank had vanished, having turned the corner at the end of the block. Gerard balled his hands into fists. He’d take care of Frank. Watch him and make sure he didn’t get hurt again. His conscious was nagging at him just from knowing Frank was out here alone.

~

Frank huddled down, back of his hoodie riding up as he slid down the wall. It was getting cold, fast, and his fingers were growing numb. If he finds a John today, he’d buy himself a pair of gloves, but no one was interested as of late. It’s been two days since he last ate and his stomach was cramping.

He hunched over, ass hitting the ground and arms wrapping around his legs, trying to keep what little heat his body had in. The sun was already setting and Frank knew not to go out when the real prostitutes came out. He tried that once and nearly got the shit beat out of him by some chick in a belt skirt and see-through lace top. She was terrifying and he didn’t want to mess with her or any of the others. One hospital trip was enough.

Just thinking of the hospital pissed Frank off, since checked out and found out that rich cunt had arranged to pay his bill after Frank had told him no.

He growled to himself, wincing when he stitches pulled.

If he ever sees that asshole that stabbed him, he’d rip the guy’s face off.

~

Gerard sighed, pulling up the parking brake lever and sitting back in his seat. Frank was still living in that alley, but there were times when Gerard couldn’t find him, no matter how hard he searched.

He unbuckled his seatbelt, climbing out of his car and shutting the door. He locked it, activated the alarm and unlocked the garage door, slipping inside his house.

He wanted to get Frank off the streets, into a home where he’d be safe, well fed, and cared for. He wanted to help this boy, but he didn’t know how.

Why had Frank lived with his grandparents? Where were his parents? Did they not want him? Were they dead?

Gerard walked through the kitchen and down the hall, stopping at the closet and hanging his coat up before entering his studio. He needed to think and art has always helped him think. He had a couple of black canvases, bought when he was looking for new shades of greys and white paints. He’d used black canvas before, but only a few times and he figured today would be a good day to use them again.

~

“Who-?” Gerard mused, watching the strange man talk to Frank. He had a smirk on his face, fingers groping for his wallet and pulling out some notes. Gerard was too far to see how much it was but he smiled when he handed it to Frank. _At least now he can get some food,_ he thought.

He expected the man to leave, but he watched as Frank stuffed the money in his pocket and the man followed him into the alley, that smirk still on his face. It made Gerard’s stomach twist into knots.

Walking quickly, he hid just out of sight at the mouth of the alley, looking in to find Frank. He saw the man, in the corner Frank slept in with his back to Gerard. He frowned, not seeing Frank at all. He couldn’t have snuck out of the alley, Gerard would have seen him.

Gerard bit his lip, looking down the street, expecting to see the back of Frank’s head.

The man in the alley moaned and Gerard made a face in disgust. _Is this guy masturbating in an alley? Sicko._

He looked at the man a second time, seeing a hand on his hip. A hand that was not his own.

Frank’s hand.

Gerard watched with wide eyes. The subtle hip jerks, the moans, the money. Gerard knew how Frank survived out here and it made him sick. Literally.

He rushed away from the alley, towards his car, stopping and leaning over in an alley, vomiting on the side of a dumpster. His knees shook as he gripped the dirty metal, heaving and spitting up bile.

_How could he do that?_ He shook his head, trying to get the image out of his mind. It remained and he heaved again, stomach tightening as nothing came up.

Gerard sighed, spitting into the bile and wiping his mouth with his sleeve. He groaned at the stain left behind and walked to his car, unlocking it and sliding inside. He paused before starting the car, closing his eyes and breathing slowly. The image was still there, in the fore front of his mind, and he shuddered.

He stopped suddenly, sitting up straight and blinking. _I know how to get Frank off the street. I can keep him safe._

He put the key in the ignition, turning and starting the car before driving north. It took him forty minutes to reach his home, and he rushed inside, not even bothering to turn the car off.

Gerard banged open his bedroom door, yanked open the closet and pulled out his little safe. He entered the code and opened it, grabbing out the bills inside and counting them.

Two thousand and thirty dollars.

He smiled. _Perfect._ Stuffing five of the twenties in his wallet, he stowed the rest of the money, locking the safe and shoving it back in the closet.

~

Frank was shifting against the wall, scratching his back with the bricks, when Gerard showed up. He seemed fidgety, really fidgety, like he thought he was being watched as he walked up to Frank.

He stopped a few feet away and Frank growled at him. “Um, I-uh,” he stuttered, biting his lip.

“Spit it out!” Frank barked, thrusting his hands into his hoodie.

Gerard jumped, looking around for a few seconds. “I-I’ll pay you a-a hundred dollars f-for a blowjob,” he mumbled, looking down at his feet.

Frank scrutinized him, squinting his eyes and laughing. “Yeah, right! Sure, whatever, if you got the cash,” he smirked, waltzing forward.

He stroked Gerard’s jaw, making the older jump again. “I-um, I won’t do it out here,” he said, shifting his feet against each other. “Y-you have to come to my house.”

Frank frowned, stepping back. “No,” he said flatly.

“Please?” Gerard pouted. Frank shook his head and turned, walking away. “Wait!” Gerard pleaded and Frank paused, looking over his shoulder. “Ah-make it a thousand then.”

“A thousand dollars?” Frank hummed, rubbing his chin. “Do you even have that kind of cash?” he asked, turning to face Gerard.

“N-not on me, but I can give you a hundred now and the rest later?” he said, wringing his hands together. Frank opened his mouth to speak but Gerard stopped him. “A-and you have to stay at my house for the night. I’ll bring you back tomorrow.”

Frank glared, pinching his lips together. He watched Gerard fidget, taking in his features. He wasn’t particularly tall, but he had more weight on his frame than Frank did, but then again, who didn’t? His short, white-blonde hair seemed to bring out his bone structure, and Frank wasn’t ashamed to say this guy was attractive. But he was also an idiot and Frank didn’t know if he could trust him. Still, a thousand bucks for a blowjob and, by the sound of it, a hot meal and warm bed. Not a bad deal.

“Sure,” Frank finally said and Gerard smiled, his eyes lighting up. “But, you gotta give me that first hundred now, as promised.”

Gerard nodded eagerly, pulling his wallet from a pocket inside his coat. He pulled out a few notes, counting them before placing them in Frank’s waiting hand.

Frank counted the twenties four times, just to make sure it was a hundred dollars. He smiled, motioning with his hand and said, “Lead the way.”

He followed the Gerard out of the alley and a short distance down the street to a black car.

_Of course, fucking rich kid’s car,_ he thought sourly, looking at the Mercedes with disgust. He sighed and slipped in after Gerard opened the passenger door, buckling his seatbelt and watching Gerard climb behind the wheel.

Gerard buckled his own seatbelt and started the car. He turned on the radio, wondering if he should leave it on his favorite station or ask Frank what he wanted to listen to. He bit his lip and remained silent, hands gripping the wheel tightly as they drove out of Newark.

Frank was silent the whole ride, staring out the window and generally looking bored. Gerard frowned every time he glanced at the younger boy. He was still so thin, his face was dirty and his clothes hung off his body.

“Will ya watch the fucking road?” Frank snapped and Gerard turned away quickly. He blushed heavily, mumbling out a ‘sorry’.

He heard Frank groan when he pulled into his driveway and he deflated. Did Frank not like his house? Did-did he expect Gerard to have a bigger one like his parents? He sighed softly, pulling into the open garage and parking the car.

Frank was already opening his door and stepping out by the time Gerard turned the engine off. He walked over to the door leading inside and waited for Gerard. “C’mon,” he whined as Gerard climbed out of the car, closing the door. “I’d like to get this over with as soon as possible.”

Gerard faltered, nearly dropping his keys at Frank’s words. He caught himself and unlocked the door, letting Frank into the kitchen where he immediately turned and pushed Gerard up against the now closed door. “Wh-what?” Gerard choked out, gasping when Frank palmed him through his jeans. He whimpered as Frank applied more pressure, but managed to push him away.

“What’s your problem?” Frank barked. “You paid for this so fucking let me do my job.”

“N-no,” Gerard stuttered, slipping around Frank and crouching down to dig through the cabinets. “Dinner first, then b-business,” he said, making a face as he grabbed out a pot. He hated to think of this as ‘business’.

Frank let out a low growl, crossing his arms and watching Gerard place the pot in the sink.

“Um, do you like spaghetti?” he asked, darting his eyes over to Frank who scowled.

“No meat and I’m lactose intolerant,” he said, leaning against the counter.

Gerard nodded, setting the pot on the stove and turning the eye on. He reached into a high cabinet, grabbing out a box of spaghetti and a can of tomato sauce.

Frank hopped up on the counter, watching Gerard as he chopped vegetables and garlic and Frank wasn’t even sure what the green leaves were. He had grabbed a small basket of mushrooms and Frank raised an eyebrow. “Yo, dude. I don’t do mushrooms,” he said and Gerard quickly stuttered out an apology, shoving them back into the fridge. 

Gerard was a natural in the kitchen, Frank could see that. The way he moved so fluidly from cutting to stirring to making the whole kitchen smell mouthwateringly amazing was astonishing. Frank probably couldn’t boil water without burning something.

He hummed, swinging his feet against the cabinet and watching Gerard work. Frank looked around the kitchen while Gerard had his back to him. It walls were in shades of honey and it was sparkling clean. Frank felt like he was dirtying it just sitting on the counter, and he probably was. He knew his sneakers were not the cleanest things in the world and banging them off the cabinet door was going to leave dirty smudges that Gerard’s maid would probably have to scrub at. He frowned when he thought of a maid. Of course Gerard would have one. He wouldn’t get on his knees and clean the cabinets himself, but… if he did have one, then why wasn’t she cooking for him.

“So, I’m guessing you gave the maid the day off,” he said, off handedly.

Gerard turned, setting a hot tray of garlic bread on the stove top. “Oh, I-I don’t have a maid. I live by myself,” he said, placing the bread in a basket with a pair of tongs.

“You’re shittin’ me, right?” Frank said, not believing a word.

“No, I live alone.” Gerard turned back to the stove, grabbing the pot of noodles and taking it over to the sink. He poured it carefully into the colander, trying to make sure none of the noodles slipped out. “Um, you can go out to the dining room, if-if you want,” he said, placing the empty pot in the opposite sink. “I-I can bring out dinner.”

Frank watched him for a second longer, shrugging and hopping off the counter.

“Through that door, sit wherever you want,” Gerard mumbled, pointing to a door. Frank walked past him and through the door as Gerard grabbed out two large, shallow bowls.

~

“Frank, please,” Gerard whined, grabbing at Frank’s hands. They were tugging at his belt, pulling it tighter and unbuckling it. “No, stop.”

“C’mon, you paid for this, Gerard,” Frank smirked. His wrists were held loosely in Gerard’s hands but he managed to back Gerard against a wall in the hallway. “You know you want this,” he whispered seductively.

Gerard cringed inwardly, pulling Frank’s hands up and leading him backwards, down the hall. He stopped at an open door, one of the spare bedrooms and shoved Frank inside. “There’s a shower if you wanna use it, um, I-I have to be up early so goodnight,” he hurried out, ignoring Frank’s dark look and ran to his bedroom at the end of the hall.

Frank watched him go, following after him when the door slammed shut. He knocked, getting no answer. “Gee-rard, I know you’re in there,” he sung, pressing his ear to the door.

Silence.

“You know I could just steal your money and car and leave,” he threatened. Still no answer.

He puffed out his cheeks, glaring at the white wood before storming back to the room Gerard had shoved him into. It was kind of sparsely decorated, just a bed, nightstand and dresser. The wall opposite the bed had two doors on it and he walked over, opening the first. And empty closet. There was a bathroom behind the second, a couple of fluffy towels and bathroom products on a shelf behind the tub.

Well, Gerard did say he could use it, and Frank completely intended to get the full use out of the room. He filled the tub with near scalding hot water, watching the steam rise from the blue-green surface before he poured a few capfuls of bubble bath in. He might as well pamper himself since Gerard was being a pussy and not letting Frank do the job he was being paid for.

An hour later and Frank climbed out of the lukewarm water, wrapping one towel around his chest while he dried his hair with another one. His skin was pink and raw from rubbing, but he was the cleanest he’d been since he was thirteen, maybe even before that.

He sighed and left the bathroom, looking at his dirty clothes on the floor and stopping when they weren’t where he left them. “What the fuck? Where’s my clothes?!” he shouted, running to the bedroom door. Gerard’s door was still shut and he made a face, turning back to the room.

There was a small pile of clothes on the edge of the bed and he walked over, picking the top item up.

Pajamas. Black, cotton pajamas. Really plain and boring black, cotton pajamas.

He stared at the shirt before shrugging and slipping it on, buttoning the three middle buttons and leaving the rest open. There was no underwear in the pile and Frank figured Gerard’s would be too big for him anyway, not to mention wearing another guy’s boxers would be more than a little creepy. Wearing someone else’s pajamas was creepy enough. He tugged on the pants and pulled the drawstring tight before crawling under the thick covers and turning off the lamp.

~

Gerard slipped out of his room, cringing when the door creaked. He held his breath, listening down the dark hall.

Frank was asleep or at least he didn’t hear him. _Good._

He crept down the hallway, past Frank’s room and to the laundry room. The washer was silent and he pressed the knob in, turning it off before opening the drum. He knew it was wrong to steal Frank’s clothes, but he also knew Frank wouldn’t give them up if he had asked and this was the only way he could clean them. They probably hadn’t been cleaned since Frank acquired them.

Gerard shuddered, he didn’t even want to think about the things Frank did to get the money for these clothes. He threw them in the dryer, adding a dryer sheet and turning it on for fifty minutes.

He turned and walked to the kitchen, searching the cabinets for a snack. He was sure there were some cookies or something in the back. He grabbed a box and pulled it forward. Crackers. Yes, they’ll do nicely. He grabbed the peanut butter from the cabinet and a knife from the drawer and made his way back to his room. 

~

Gerard awoke early, rubbing his face and feeling the short stubble under his fingers. He rolled out of bed and walked the short distance to the bathroom, taking a quick shower and shaving.

Grabbing up his dirty clothes, he left his room and headed down the hall, passing through the kitchen to the laundry room. He dropped his clothes into the basket and opened the dryer, scooping out Frank’s clean clothes. He threw the dryer sheet away and folded the clothes, frowning at the thin material of the hoodie.

He took the clothes back down the hall, listening at Frank’s door for a moment before entering quietly. Frank had his back to the door, just the top of his head visible over the thick cover.

Gerard set his clothes on the nightstand, leaving the room quickly and going back to the kitchen. He didn’t know how long Frank would be asleep for and he didn’t know if he should make breakfast for two, so he opted for a bagel and cream cheese.

He took the plate to his studio, along with a large mug of coffee, and shut the door.

~

Frank groaned, curling his body up tighter and snuggling down under the blanket. He scratched at his lower back then his side and arm. _Fucking pjs,_ he frowned. _Now I know why I never wore the damn things._

He gasped for air when he shoved the cover away, his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and the pajamas sticking to his back. He had no idea of the time, there was no clock in the room, but his clothes were on the nightstand, freshly washed by the look of them.

Another shower was the first thing on Frank’s mind when he climbed out of the bed. He stripped on his way to the bathroom, leaving the clothes where they fell.

Fifteen minutes later, he was dry and dressed in his own clothes, which smelled of flowers and made his nose crinkle. He tossed the pajamas to the messy bed and left the room, making his way down the hall.

He found the kitchen and Gerard humming to himself as he worked at the counter. Frank couldn’t see what he was making and Gerard didn’t seem to even notice he was in the room. He coughed and Gerard shrieked, knife clattering to the counter.

“Jesus-Frank, you scared me,” he panted, holding his shirt as he turned. “I kinda forgot you were here,” he mumbled and Frank growled.

“Oh sure, no big deal. Most people forget I’m around anyway, why should you be different?” he spat, nails drumming on the counter.

Gerard looked abashed, cheeks flushing as he bit his lip. “I-I’m sorry. I’m just so used to being alone that I-“

“Save it,” Frank barked. “Now, can I finally just do my job and leave?”

Gerard squirmed around, looking over his shoulder before turning around. “No, lunch first,” he said and Frank bristled.

Frank tried to argue but Gerard ignored it, only asking him if he like this or that. 

He followed the older to the dining room, watching him place the bowls of soup on the table before he went back to the kitchen for the bread and silverware. “What would you like to drink?” he asked Frank, who barked out ‘water’, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

Frank humored Gerard, sitting at the table and eating the lunch provided. He gave short answers when Gerard asked him questions.

The subject of Frank’s parents came up and Frank clammed up, ignoring Gerard and keeping his eyes downcast.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked,” Gerard apologized, placing his hands in his lap.

“Whatever,” Frank grunted. “They’re dead and there’s nothing anyone can do.”

Gerard watched the younger eat. He really did not want him to go back to Newark, living off the streets and doing… doing _that_ for money, but he knew he couldn’t stall him for longer than he already had. Frank was getting impatient and he might just demand to go back to the city without ‘performing his job’.

Frank’s spoon clattered into the bowl, the high pinging bouncing off the walls. He sat and waited for Gerard to finish his lunch, watching him stand to grab their bowls. Frank was faster, though. He grabbed Gerard’s hand and led him back to the wall, feeling his heart race as he pressed against him. “We’re finishing this now,” he said, palming Gerard through his slacks.

“Frank, please-“ Gerard groaned, grabbing at Frank’s hands and shoving them away.

“What the fuck is your problem, asshole?!” Frank shouted. “Do you want this fucking blowjob or not?!”

“No, I don’t,” Gerard said softly. He kept a good grip on Frank’s wrists, feeling him trying to pull them free. “I wanted to get you off the streets. I only said I wanted a-a… that because I saw how you make money and I knew it would work,” he confessed, releasing Frank’s arms. “I want to help you, just-let me help you.”

Frank’s glare hardened and he gritted his teeth. “I told you, I don’t want your fucking charity!”

“It’s not charity!” Gerard whined. “I’m not obligated to help you. It’s not like I’m being forced to do it or it’s for some publicity stunt. I want to help you.” He had managed to reverse their positions, Frank’s back rigid against the wall as they argued.

“Whatever,” he huffed out, looking away. “Just… give me the rest of the money and take me back to town.”

_Shit!_ Gerard knew this would happen. He knew it was inevitable, but the words still stung. He frowned and Frank snapped at him, forcing him to look up.

“Any day now,” he said, voice hard and eyes fierce.

Gerard nodded and Frank mumbled out ‘finally’ before quickly going silent. 

Gerard dropped to his knees, fingers working open Frank’s loose jeans and tugging them down his hips. 

Frank yelped, shoving at Gerard’s shoulders and trying to grab his hands when Gerard yanked his underwear off his hips, leaving them to bunch up around the top of his pants. “What the fuck are you doing?!” he yelped. Gerard had crowded him back against the wall, the wallpaper cold on his ass and Gerard’s hand warm on his cock. “Oh God-“

“I’m getting what I paid for,” Gerard said. He gulped, leaning forward and just smelling Frank for a moment. He felt Frank shiver above him and he licked a wet stripe up his dick, feeling him fill out in his hand.

Frank’s hand made its way into Gerard’s hair, scratching his bitten down nails through the short locks. Gerard groaned, taking the head into his mouth and licking the tip. He smiled when Frank choked out a moan. He opened his eyes, looking up and seeing Frank watching him, mouth wide and wet and fucking inviting.

He groaned, closing his eyes and sinking down on Frank’s cock, moving his hand and taking him completely into his mouth. His throat constricted and Frank whimpered, fingers scraping through Gerard’s hair. He didn’t know how long Frank would last or if Frank had ever even received a blowjob before, but he was relishing the noises coming from the younger man.

Little whimpers and gasps, cut off moans and pants. Frank’s head fell back, thunking off the wall as he clenched Gerard’s shirt between his fingers. Gerard was stroking him just right, using his spit to get the slide just right and Frank felt like he was about to fall apart, piece by piece until there was nothing left.

Gerard twisted his hand, his thumb pressing against the vein running up his cock and tongue sliding over the slit and Frank was gone. 

He choked out a moan and Gerard pulled away in shock, cum hitting his lip and chin before going back in and swallowing around Frank’s head. He held his hand under his chin, catching the excess that slipped down his chin.

Frank whimpered, his legs shaking as he nudged Gerard away. Gerard looked up at him for a second, seeing his eyes blown and wide and his mouth slack. He pulled back, standing up and looking away. “I’ll just… uh,” he mumbled, wiping at his mouth and walking out of the dining room.

Frank watched him go, pulling his underwear and jeans back up and buttoning them. Gerard returned a few moments later, envelope in his hand and face clean. “What the fuck was that?” Frank demanded.

“I told you,” Gerard said softly, avoiding eye contact. “I was getting what I paid for.” He held out the envelope with a frown. “A thousand dollars for a blowjob.”

Frank continued to frown, taking the envelope and opening it. _That’s a lot of twenties._ He looked back up at Gerard with wide eyes.

“C’mon, I’ll take you back to Newark,” he said, turning away and leaving the room.

He was silent the whole ride back to the city. His fingers gripped the steering wheel tight, knuckles turning white and his face was set. Not once did he glance over at Frank.

Frank had stuffed the hundred dollars Gerard had given him the day before in the envelope and shoved it in the pocket of his hoodie. At least he wouldn’t have to suck anyone’s dick for a while. Maybe not until after winter was over and even half way through spring if he was careful with the money.

The car came to a stop, Gerard putting the gear shift in park as he remained silent. Frank looked up and saw the alley. His alley.

He made a face and swallowed the lump in his throat. He opened the door and tried to get out only to be held back by his seatbelt. He flushed, unbuckling it and climbing out of the car. “Um, thanks,” he said and Gerard grunted. The door was shut and the car took off down the alley, Frank watching it go.

_Well, that’s it. He’s gone,_ he sighed. He turned to the alley, shivering when he remember how cold it was. But-he had money now. He can buy a thick coat. Something waterproof, too. _And new shoes,_ he thought, frowning down at his old fake chucks.

~

It was still early, the sun still bright in the sky when Frank hunkered down in his alley. Christmas was almost upon him. Another one he’d spend bitter and alone, growling under his breath at the happy families walking past him. He pulled out the envelope, counting the remaining money inside once more before a small white card caught his eye. 

It was tucked in behind the bills, about half the size of a business card. On the front was a name and address.

Gerard’s address.

Frank frowned, gripping the card in both hands and preparing to rip it in two. 

He stopped, letting out a deep sigh and dropping his head back against the wall. He shivered when a strong gust blew through the alley.

Gerard hadn’t been to see Frank since he dropped him off and Frank was glad. Ecstatic really. He didn’t want Gerard to try and convince him to ‘let him help’. Frank didn’t need help. But…

Every time a black car drove down the street he’d get butterflies in his stomach. Whenever he saw some teen with platinum hair, he’d do a double take.

He didn’t want charity, but he kind of wanted to see Gerard again.

He counted his money one more time and nodded, standing up and walking to the main street and hailing a taxi. It took a few minutes before one finally stopped for him and he clambered inside the overheated backseat.

“Where to, kid?” the man smiled.

“Um,” Frank fumbled with the card, reading the address out. “Newfoundland, New Jersey. Uh, Deerhaven Lane?” he said, unsure if the driver even knew where that was. Hell, Frank didn’t know there was a Newfoundland in New Jersey..

The man nodded, “Sure thing. It’ll be about forty five minutes or so, so buckle up.”

Frank nodded, securing his seatbelt and watching the scenery change from the dirty, crowded city to the rural areas, full of green fields and trees.

He glanced at the meter, cringing inwardly at the price already, but he had more than enough money left over. He should, at least.

They turned onto the road he knew Gerard lived on when the driver asked him the number again. Frank told him, looking out the window at the houses. The car came to a stop in front of a small gate and the driver told him the price.

Frank nodded, grabbing the remainder of the money in the envelope and handing it over, saying ‘keep the change’ as he climbed out of the car, closing the door and walking up the path.

Gerard had Christmas lights up and a few decorations in the windows. It was tasteful and not over the top like he heard rich people would tend to do. _Competing with the neighbors,_ he’d heard it being called.

He walked up slowly, rubbing his cold fingers together and stopping on the porch. He had a plan and he prayed he didn’t fuck it up. Nothing could go wrong. Nothing.

He raised his hand, about to knock when the door opened and a taller guy with dark brown hair stood in the doorway. He stared at Frank, eyebrow raised and arms crossed and Frank faltered.

His plan was ruined. He must have the wrong house, or maybe Gerard moved out.

“Shi-um, I-I’m sorry. I mu-must have the wr-wrong house. I’ll just-“ he stuttered out, turning to leave when a hand grabbed his arm, tugging him back gently.

“Frank?”

He turned his head, looking back and seeing Gerard. His hair was longer now, dyed pitch black and Frank couldn’t help but notice how it made his eyes brighter. The taller man sighed and rolled his eyes, retreating back into the house. “Wh-who wa-“

“My brother, Mikey,” Gerard shrugged. “Just ignore him. But… you came back? I thought you didn’t want my charity?” He released Frank’s arm and the younger turned to face him fully.

“I-I don’t but…” he trailed off, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. “I want to live with you, but I’ll get a job and pay rent and half of all the bills and help with the chores and I just don’t want to be alone anymore,” he rushed out, keeping his eyes shut tight.

“Frank,” Gerard started and Frank shook his head.

“Please say yes,” he pleaded, feeling and sounding stupid and desperate to his own ears.

Gerard breathed out a small laugh, touching Frank’s arm. “Of course.” Frank let out the breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “Now come in out of the cold.”


End file.
